The Longing

by Wendy Lindstrom

  Kyle shifted his attention to the team of horses hauling a drag of logs into the mill building. “Why do you always say I’m an ass with women?”

  “Oh, boy. This is bad.” Boyd rolled his eyes. “Why couldn’t you be having this conversation with Duke? Or Radford? Or with anyone but me?”

  “Because you’re the only one who can tell me how to seduce my wife.”

  “What!”

  Kyle thought he might have to pry Boyd’s jaw off his chest. Knowing he’d finally managed to shock his wild-ass brother into silence made Kyle’s day.

  Boyd scrubbed his palms over his face, glanced around the yard, then shook his head. “I must be sleepwalking.”

  Kyle would have laughed if he wasn’t so miserable. “Welcome to my nightmare.”

  Rays of sun slanted across the side of Boyd’s face, highlighting his expression of disbelief. A pine-scented breeze flipped his hair across his forehead, but he didn’t even blink. Behind him, two men led a team of horses from the barn, yelling good morning as they passed. Boyd still didn’t budge.

  “Will you be over your shock soon? We have work waiting for us,” Kyle said, barely able to squeeze the words past his pride.

  Boyd snorted. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Kyle knew then that the stress had finally pushed him over the edge. Every ounce of his common sense had deserted him. He had to be insane to be discussing anything this personal with Boyd. Hell, to be talking about it with anyone was insane.

  “You really want to know why you’re an ass with women?” Boyd asked.

  No. But if Kyle ever wanted to consummate his marriage, he’d better find out. “Try not to enjoy yourself too much while relaying the gruesome details.”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Boyd said. “You promise to have my money for me in three weeks and I’ll teach you every seduction trick I know.”

  “I can’t even promise that we’ll be in business next week, much less have your money for you.”

  “Then I’m going to ask Richard for a loan.”

  Kyle’s gut clenched, but he resisted the urge to grab Boyd’s neck and shake some sense into him. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

  “No.”

  Kyle nodded, realized nothing he could say or do would change Boyd’s mind. “All right,” he said, finally swallowing the bitter reality that Boyd was going to leave him. “Don’t take out a loan. If your business fails—”

  “It won’t fail.”

  “Well, if the damn building burns down and you lose everything, you’ll still have to pay back the bank. And don’t bother telling me about insurance. A simple fistfight can bust up a bar pretty badly. A windstorm is hell on a roof and windows. Dammit, Boyd, there are all kinds of losses that can ruin you before you have half a chance to make a go of it. So just wait.” Kyle huffed out a breath, knowing he couldn’t change Boyd’s mind. “I’ll get your money, but I need some time.” He met his brother’s eyes. “I’ve just made the worst investment mistake of my life. Right now, I need your help.”

  Irritation filled Boyd’s expression and he turned away.

  “I can’t manage all this on my own.”

  As if ignoring Kyle would block out the fact that he was asking for help, Boyd stared across the yard.

  “I have a wife and mother-in-law to support now.”

  Boyd’s shoulders tensed and he started to walk away.

  “Christ, Boyd, don’t make me beg.”

  “Damnation!” Boyd kicked a thick slab of bark and it shattered against a log, then he let loose a long torrent of cuss words that even Kyle had to admire.

  He waited for Boyd’s anger to burn down.

  “It’s driving me crazy spending every day of my life here. I need a change. I’m going to buy that tavern, so just get that through your thick head.”

  “Fine.”

  “And I’m going to restore the bar and tear up that scum-covered floor. I’m putting down oak and replacing the booze-splattered wallpaper. I guarantee you, Kyle, my bar won’t stink like piss when I open it back up. And I will open those damn doors. Soon!”

  “Good. You can buy me an ale and I’ll help you celebrate your grand opening.”

  Boyd swung toward Kyle, his face red. “How the hell do you do this to me?” He jammed his hands in his pockets, his glare filled with disgust.

  Kyle just smiled. “I think this is the part where you say you’ll help me, then reveal all your seduction secrets.”

  Boyd glared at Kyle another moment, then shook his head. “You’re going to owe me for this.”

  “I know.”

  “All right, goddammit, I’ll stay for a while. But not forever, Kyle. You’d better live up to your part of the deal when I’m ready to go.”

  “I will.”

  “And you’d better wake up and realize there’s more to life than this mill. You’ve got to stop living for this place. Take Amelia on a honeymoon or something.”

  “She’s in mourning and I can’t leave the mill right now. You know that.”

  “Then pretend you’re on your honeymoon. Pay attention to her. Go home early and drag her into bed. Tell her you’ve been dreaming about her all day.”

  “Are you insane? I’m on the verge of bankruptcy. I don’t have time to think about her.” In fact, he didn’t want to think about her. He wanted a simple, unassuming relationship, like the one he’d had with Catherine.

  Boyd shook his head. “You’re dense as hell at times.”

  “I’m not going to lie to my wife just to get her into bed.”

  “You don’t have to. Just flirt with her. Tease Amelia about distracting you, and don’t try telling me she isn’t because you were so wrapped up in your thoughts a few minutes ago that you didn’t even hear me talking to you.”

  “All right, Romeo. Fine. I was thinking about my wife. So what? Is this the extent of your worldly advice?”

  “Walk around the house with your shirt off. It drives a woman crazy to see a man’s bare chest.”

  Kyle laughed. He couldn’t help himself. The idea of his bare skin exciting Amelia was absurd.

  “It does,” Boyd insisted. “But it really makes them sweat when you open your pants. Don’t take them off, just let them fall open.”

  “What?” Kyle stared at his brother.

  “Touch her as often as you can. Stroke her back when she passes by. Kiss her neck just below the ear. Women love their necks kissed. But whatever you do, do not kiss her on the mouth.”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  Boyd shrugged as if he were simply stating a fact that Kyle should know. “It diffuses the tension if you kiss her. You’ve got to tease Amelia, make her want to kiss you, but don’t give in to her. It’ll drive her crazy and before you know it, she’ll beg you to do it.”

  Kyle folded his arms across his chest feeling it spasm from silent laughter. This was really too much, but it was entertaining to hear Boyd’s warped sense of romance. “Anything else, Romeo?”

  “Rub her feet.”

  “What the hell do her feet have to do with what I’m after?”

  Boyd grinned. “Trust me, if you can get a hold of her feet, you’re more than halfway to the bedroom.”

  Kyle didn’t believe a single word of it, but it felt so good to laugh at his miserable life, he could have hugged his brother right in the middle of the lumberyard.

  He wasn’t about to tempt fate by playing with Amelia’s feet, but liked the idea of making her burn for him, making her long to consummate their marriage as desperately as he wanted to.

  If he could just keep himself under control long enough to calm her fears, they might find a satisfying relationship in bed. But therein lay the problem. Kyle felt too reckless, too desperate to be reined by logic or compassion. No matter how considerate he wanted to be, he feared the instant he touched Amelia, his lust would trample his good intentions.

  o0o

  Amelia surveyed the buildings at her father’s lumb
eryard with new purpose, knowing this would be the best place to win her husband’s heart. She would become his partner, his right arm, his confidante. Then his lover.

  Several hundred feet across the yard, an immense, unpainted barn staked its claim on dry, rutted ground. Golden hay spilled out of the second story loft and sprinkled the ground in front of huge double doors. To her right, two long, single-story buildings sat parallel to each other, one of which housed her father’s crew of ten men. The other contained the mess hall and an open area in the back of the building that her father had been converting to his new office. Knowing he would never experience the pleasure of working in it filled Amelia’s throat with grief, but she turned away, reminding herself to keep a clear mind and steady nerves. She needed to remember every word her father ever told her about operating the mill, because she had no actual experience that she could use to prove herself to Kyle. She would just have to bluff her way and pray Kyle didn’t catch on.

  The instant Amelia stepped inside the mill building, she slapped her hands over her ears to cut the noise of the screaming blades. Lord, she’d forgotten how deafening it was out here.

  Several feet away Kyle was talking with Jeb, dwarfing the mill foreman with his superior height and wide shoulders. Though Jeb’s medium build and kind, dark features made him passably handsome for a man her mother's age, he paled next to Kyle.

  The instant Kyle spotted Amelia, his eyebrows lifted. He glanced at Jeb who shrugged and shook his head as if to say he had no idea why she was trespassing in a man’s world.

  Amelia tried to smile, but Kyle’s displeasure was evident in the lowering of his brows, making her question her decision to come.

  Kyle sliced his hand across his throat, eliciting a return hand signal from Ray Hawkins, the head sawyer. A moment later, the blades stopped screaming and the mill quieted to a low growl as Amelia approached her frowning husband.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked.

  She shook her head, her stomach queasy. “I’m here to help you.”

  His eyes widened and he glanced at Jeb as if to ask what she was talking about.

  Though she’d expected Kyle’s reaction, it still insulted her. “I spent nine summers traipsing through this mill with my father, Kyle. I’m capable of helping here. I happen to know a good deal about our operation,” Amelia said, directing her statement to both men staring at her. She pointed to the iron platform of the sawmill that held a partially cut log. “That piece of timber is shuttled back and forth by the metal table beneath it. It’s called a carriage, Kyle.” She pointed at the heavy iron frame holding the upper circular saw. “We have a Top Rig mill with dual saws that cuts six thousand board feet a day. If Ray talks real sweet to her, she can put out eight thousand feet, or at least that’s what he’s always told Papa.”

  Hearing his name, the sawyer puffed out his thin chest. “Well, sometimes a lady needs a bit of encouragement to respond. Don’t she, Jeb?”

  Jeb frowned, but Kyle’s gaze swung to Amelia. Heat exploded in her cheeks and she averted her face, knowing he must be wondering how much encouragement it was going to take to get his wife to perform her duty.

  “Amelia,” he said, his voice condescending enough to set her teeth on edge, “I appreciate your offer, but this isn’t a place for a woman.”

  Unable to look at him and speak coherently, Amelia eyed the mill. “Do you know why we use two blades, Kyle?” She strode toward the mill and turned to face him. “The lower one does the hog work and the upper blade speeds the cutting so we can get more output per day.”

  He sighed and propped his hands on his hips.

  She ignored his obvious irritation and pointed to a huge iron bar that revolved when Ray moved the carriage. “That mandrel is driven by a leather belt and pulley contraption. When Ray gigs back, that log will move—”

  “Amelia! For God’s sake, I don’t care how much you know about the mill, this is no place for a lady and you’ll not convince me otherwise.”

  Her heart sank. The outraged expression on his face spoke volumes. He was going to send her home before she’d even had a chance to prove herself helpful to him. Knowing she had lost her one and only chance to win his respect, Amelia slumped against the cast-iron frame. Her shoulder bumped a lever and the sawmill jerked violently to life. The hum and wind from the saws blasted her ears as Kyle leapt forward and grabbed her arms. She felt a hard tug on her waist and heard a horrendous tearing of fabric as he hauled her away from the mill. By the time Ray slapped the lever in place, and Kyle had her back on her feet, Amelia's lower half was clothed only in her muslin underskirt. And her heart was pounding so hard it made her light-headed.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Kyle asked, fear making his voice raspy and harsh.

  Burning with embarrassment and scared within an inch of her life, Amelia yanked her shredded skirt from the mill. Cursing herself for being careless, she wrapped the ragged scrap around her waist.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Of course I am,” she snapped, her frustration so extreme she wanted to rip her skirt to shreds. This was the first breath of freedom she’d had since escaping the apartment she’d been imprisoned in for the past four years. The only difference between her lonely schoolroom and her lonely house was the amount of space for her to pace in. She couldn’t bear to trade one prison for another. She had to stay! It was the only way to show Kyle that she could be of some value instead of just a burden he’d acquired. She wanted his respect, dammit!

  “Before you lose any more of your wardrobe, I’m going to have Jeb take you home.”

  Her chin shot up and she faced her husband. If he was going to end up hating her anyhow, why hold back? Why go on pretending to be the docile little mouse she’d been forced to portray to keep her teaching position? If she was going to face a lifetime without his love and respect, then she was damned sure going to insist on the freedom to be herself. At least she would be happy.

  “I don’t mean to disrespect you, Kyle, but the only reason I’m going to go home is to change my clothes.”

  “It’s unsafe here, Amelia. I don’t want you anywhere near the lumberyard.”

  She propped her hands on her hips, ready to do battle if that was what it took to break the links chaining her. “Then I guess we are about to have our first marital argument, because I’m coming back.”

  She expected Kyle to rail at her, to command her to leave the business side of their union to him, but a spark of appreciation flared in his eyes before he turned and ordered Jeb to take her home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Amelia returned to the mill garbed in one of Kyle’s old shirts and a pair of trousers she’d borrowed from Evelyn, who wore a pair just like it while grooming horses in her livery. Amelia had visited her to get some much-needed advice.

  The lumberyard thundered with activity. Horses strained at harnesses, pulling hard on drags of timber. Men with rolled shirtsleeves stacked wood on pallets and tossed scrap onto piles that fed the boiler. Saw blades screamed inside the mill and the smell of roasting beef drifted out the door of the mess hall.

  Amelia strode across the yard and seven startled men gawked at her from disbelieving faces. All activity screeched to a halt. They yanked their hats off, stuffed them back on their heads, then hauled them off again, obviously unsure of how to greet a woman in men’s clothing. Some nodded, some tried to mumble with jaws still hanging open, others respectfully dropped their gazes and shuffled their feet, but it was Kyle’s stunned expression that made Amelia’s steps falter.

  He stood openmouthed beside a team of thick-bodied Percheron horses he’d been using to move a drag of timber to the mill building. The horses snorted and tossed their heads, but Kyle ignored them, his gaze locked on Amelia as he inspected her from her hot cheeks to her boot-covered feet.

  His expression said he was going to kill her.

  He lowered his hands and strode purposefully toward her, stopping only inches away. “What in G
od’s name are you doing?”

  Despite her nerves, Amelia lifted her chin, trying to pretend she wasn’t cowed by his dark scowl. “I told you I was coming back after I changed my clothes.”

  Kyle put his back to the men and lowered his voice. “You can’t be here, or anywhere, dressed like that. Where the devil did you get that outfit?”

  His shirt was huge on her, but unfortunately, Evelyn was thinner than Amelia and the pants were admittedly snug. Still, Amelia kept her jaw clamped shut, afraid Kyle would berate Evelyn for giving them to her.

  “Most of these men aren’t married, Amelia.”

  “What does that have to do with my clothes?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Have you looked in a mirror?”

  “Of course not. I barely took time to change before hurrying back here.”

  “Well, you should have because you’d be as shocked as I am.”

  “I’ll only wear my britches at the mill.”

  “No, you will not. You’re distracting the men.”

  She glanced at their crew. They all ducked their heads and pretended to be working, but she knew they had been watching. “Kyle, I can’t wear a dress for safety reasons.”

  “This outfit is a safety issue for the men!” he said, gesturing toward her pants.

  “Nonsense. They’re just surprised, but they’ll get used to it. Besides, I can’t concentrate on my work if I’m preoccupied with catching my skirt in something.”

  Kyle caught Amelia’s hand. “Let’s finish this discussion in the office.”

  “First let me say hello to the men my father was so proud of,” she said, her voice loud enough to top the distant buzz of the saws. Heads lifted and each man’s eyes flickered with pride. “I haven’t spent time here since I was sixteen, so I’ll need you to help me remember what you all do here.”

  Without waiting for Kyle’s approval, a short, balding man on her left stepped forward. “I’m Willard Barnes. I joined the crew last year. The gang calls me Willie and I do the skiddin’ here. I pull the logs out of the woods, and also around the yard or wherever the boss needs it.”